Why Sundays are Made for Brunch

I’m afraid I don’t have a recipe for you today as i’m feeling extremely lazy and I still have a chicken to roast (you can have that one tomorrow, if you behave) and my Jillian Michaels workout to do and I’m struggling to move from the sunbeam I’m currently sitting in. 

Today I was in Glasgow with my Mum for shopping and so on which meant an early start (7am is ridiculous for a Sunday) then a train journey and a lot of walking. Normally, Sundays for me offer a decent lie in and a late breakfast of something that can only be called a cheat, like a bacon sandwich or eggs and buttered toast to last until dinner, so today we opted to have a lazy brunch at All Bar One in Glasgow. However, when we skipped off the train at 10am, we found that most of the shops were closed until 11. 

  

(Note, coffee photo was taken at Willows in Perth, not All Bar One, but it was just so pretty!).

No matter, we just went to brunch a little early and were entertained for a while by the South African waiter who frowned and joked with us when we said we’d prefer to wait til 11 so we could order mimosas. Eventually, we caved and ordered coffee, which came served with a shot glass of Smarties each (I’m not ashamed to say I ate both servings – note to self, don’t skip workout) before ordering Eggs Benedict at 11. Even after the Smarties, it was wolfed down, despite lacking its full complement of lemon. 

That kept me full til just about now. Is it just me, or do poached eggs and hollandaise taste much better when someone else is making them?!

  

There’s something wonderfully appropriate, for me, in the sociable self-indulgence of brunch (or even going out for a late breakfast) for starting off your Sunday. Must do it more often….

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